


Growing old disgracefully

by millygal



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:30:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can take the boy out of the school yard...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing old disgracefully

Gene's been retired 10 years, Sam only 5, but neither one of them is showing any signs of growing up.

It's one of those old adages, 'You can sleep when you're dead', 'You're only as old as you feel', 'Growing old is compulsory, growing up is not'.

Actually, that last one Sam bought Gene on a t-shirt for his 55th birthday. The shirt's long since given into to old age, the wearer, not so much.

He still wears the bloody thing round the house sometimes, even though you can see daylight through both the armpit seams and it's got more holes in than a cheese grater.

They have no scum bags to kick around anymore, despite Sam being able to tell when Gene's getting itchy boots. He gets this steely look in his eyes and Sam's had to physically restrain him a few times.  
"We're retired Guv, we'd get nicked"

So, instead of giving the nightmares of Manchester something to toss and turn over, they've taken to annoying the living hell out of the police, every chance they get.

Well, they both know a lot of the coppers on the beat, even now. And seen as Chris officially made DCI about 5 years ago, it's always worth watching the now greying man come waltzing into whatever bar they're refusing to pay their tab in, and try and calm the situation down.

Despite the fact Christopher Skelton grew a pair a good few years ago, he still faces his old DCI with a certain amount of trepidation, and Sam thinks it's hilarious.

Ok, good on the guy, first openly gay DCI for Manchester and Salford! But really, all Gene has to do is square up and put his hands on his hips, and Chris looks like he did all those years ago when Gene used to throw file folders at him and call him a div.

So, as is their want on a slow going Wednesday afternoon, they're in the Railway, playing darts, shouting insults and generally causing Nelson a huge headache, when Chris comes strolling in, Ray only seconds behind.

"Watcha Skelton, banged up any toe rags lately?"

"Not this mornin' Guv"

Chris is mid way through his fifties, he runs his own squad now, a much bigger, shinier squad than Gene and Sam ever ran, and he still calls his former superior 'Guv'.

Gene'd never admit it, but it gives him a warm fuzzy glow somewhere deep down. It's a sign of respect that Chris wouldn't know how to stop using if he tried.

Gene will always be the Guv.

Ray nods at his friends, wanders up to the bar, orders a brown and mild for himself and two whiskey chasers for Gene and Sam, then grabs the paper and starts reading the footy results.

"You not drinkin' Chris?"

Chris shakes his head, slams his hands in his pockets and stares at the toe of his boot.

Sam's already pretty sure why Chris is there, mid way through his working day, attempting to look tiny in front of two retired rogues, but he can't help needling anyway, "Cat got you're tongue?"

"No boss, it's just...well..."

Rolling his eyes, Gene throws a dart at the board without really looking and turns to his former DC, "Come on, out with it!"

"I, uh, well..."

Sam sneaks a look at Ray, and sees the corners of the broadsheet rustling slightly. Ok, so Ray knows why Chris is there aswell.

"Wellyouseewhathappenediswegotthisreportfromthisoldwomaninansteylanelastnightsayingshe'dseentwomenrunningawayfromherneighboursgardencarrying allofhergnomesintherearmsandlaughing"

Marvelling at Chris's ability to speak for so long without taking a single breath, Sam shrugs his shoulders and feigns innocence, "No idea what you mean. Isn't gnome theft a little below your pay grade?"

Finally remembering to inhale, Chris blows out a long breath and tries to go for authoritative, "Oh come on boss, she said one of them was wearing a frayed camel hair mac and the other was wearing an ancient leather jacket"

Gene is holding a straighter face than Sam, but even his eyebrows have started to twitch from internal combustion caused by laughter, "Could of been anyone Chris, I mean we can't be the only two blokes in the city with these clothes"

"Hmm and I would've agreed Guv, but she distinctly remembers hearing the taller of the two shouting, 'Come on Gladys, 'fore we end up havin' to knit ourselves new arse holes for the theft of a Mr fishing gnome and mooning Mrs gnome' "

It's finally too much to take and Ray almost chokes on his pint from laughing so hard.

"It's not funny Ray, I shouldn't have to drag my arse down here every time these two get lashed and decide to have a little fun!"

Shaking his head, affecting a very contrite look, Ray bites his bottom lip and nods then shakes his head, "No dear, of course not dear"

"And why did you have to drag your arse down here Skelton, it's hardly CID that, is it?"

"Cos every other copper in the nick refuses to come anywhere near you two since the incident with the spray paint and the duct tape. You're officially a public menace. One that everyone else is too bloody afraid to try and give a bollocking to!"

Openly grinning, Sam and Gene sit themselves at the bar and simultaneously hold there wrists out together, "Fine, you got us, we are the great gnome-nappers of Manchester, cuff us an' haul us away"

At last, Chris grins and shakes his head, "Look you two, if you can't behave then keep it off my streets, and for god's sake, will you two and Phyllis stop trying to one up each other in the 'who can annoy the other most' stakes. The paperwork is giving me a headache!"

"Hey, it's not just us you know"

"No, I know, I'm about to go and visit Mrs Dobbs and ask her to kindly stop pasting 'Gene hunt is a raving poofter' posters all over the side of the CID car parking facility"

Ray can't stand it any more and almost falls off his stool.

"And you can bloody well grow up an' all. Don't think I don't know who's been nickin' Annie's hangin' baskets. Every week. For a month!"

Gene, Sam and Ray all hang there heads and nod, "Sorry sir, won't happen again sir"

Chris spins on his heel, muttering and grumbling under his breath. Before the door slams, all three distinctly hear him swear and spit, "Bloody children. Old enough to be grandparents for god's sake, I'm a soddin' DCI, trailin' down here after those two idiots"

Chuckling, Sam and Gene slide a little closer to Ray as he whispers conspiratorially, "We still on for Saturday night?"

Gene smiles smugly and nods, "Of course, I've got the firecrackers, Litton'll be at the bowls club by 9, all you have to do is distract him long enough for me to shove 'em up his exhaust!"


End file.
